Bound in Blood: Order of the Hunters
by The Onceler's Unless
Summary: Hunters are not allowed to get close to any supernatural creature. If they do, it's a likely death for you. A hunter in training would know this, but how could she resist those green eyes? Or even those blue ones? How could something that feels so right, be so wrong? Set during season four, but doesn't follow story line.
1. Chapter 1

**_Bound In Blood: Order of the Hunters_**

**_Hunters are not allowed to get close to any supernatural creature. If they do, it's a likely death for you. A hunter in training would know this, but how could she resist those green eyes? Or even those blue ones? How could something that feels so right, be so wrong? Set after season 3 - does NOT follow season 4 story line!_**

*_ ° • ° _* ° • ° *_ ° • ° _*

**_Josephine's POV_**

"What's wrong, Josephine?"

"Nothing," I said, zoning back in. My father was now looking up from his newspaper, his glasses falling to the middle of his nose. "I'm just thinking . . . "

"Oh, no," He said, then added, "That's dangerous."

"Father," I sighed, smiling small at him. That was one of the rare times he'd make a joke.

"I'm sorry, Josephine. Continue,"

I nervously rubbed my fingers over my glass which was filled with orange juice. This was a huge risk, talking to my dad like this. "Well . . . W-why do we continue to m-move around?"

He sighed, leaning back in his chair and taking off his glasses. He covered his face with both hands for a long moment before uncovering them to look at me. "I've explained this to you, _min engel. _This is for the good of all, and you. You are out in the field now, for the first time. You should be happy, you've been complaining for years about being stuck in a room at a desk, learning ways to kill vampires but not _actually_ killing one."

I nodded, thinking silently, _No, Dad, you are the one complaining about it, not me._ But I would not dare speak to him that way. "Y-yes, but Mystic Falls, Virginia? Why h-here?"

"There's been a lot of animal attacks. Constant ones. Now, it could just be a messy werewolf, but it has to be dealt with, nonetheless. So, we have been called in," He explained. "Our family name is well-known in circles."

"Advantage of the job, huh? Having people scared to death of your name . . . " I murmured, drinking the last sip of my orange juice. "And me going to public school for the first time—"

"Well, our informant said that there are a couple, he suspects, that are posing as high school students,"

"So . . . I'm playing _21 Jump Street _except I'm the actual age of a student and not a cop?" I questioned, thinking back to that old TV show, one of the few I was actually allowed to watch.

He nodded as he looked back at his paper. "Yes, you could say that."

I nodded. "Okay, so . . . so I should just look for warning signs? And then report back to you once you pick me up?"

"Yes, _min engel._ Why don't you go get your bookbag and we'll head on out?"

"Yes, sir," I stood, placed my glass in the dishwasher and left the room and headed up to my room.

My entire family are hunters, we are apart of a bigger organization. An organization which hunted the creatures of the night; better known as vampires. That's why we moved around so much; because my father is hunting them. Sometimes my uncle Makon would join us on more difficult hunts, but it was mainly just us together. My mother had left years ago, claiming she loved us both but that she couldn't handle the life of being a hunter's wife. She didn't take me, though, for some reason. I didn't know if it was because of me as a person or because she was just that horrible of a mother who left without a proper goodbye, but left only a note which I still haven't opened to this day. She probably wrote it to me in French, seeing as that was her native country. My father's naïve homeland is Denmark, but he's part Italian. This meant I was fluent in English, French, Danish, and Italian. I even knew some Latin. Sometimes my father would just begin talking in a random language, and I'd respond back to him in the same language.

Anyways, from the moment I was born, it was drilled into me that vampires were bad and that spending my life hunting them was a noble thing to do. My father's trained me in combat and a vampire's weaknesses as well as how to kill them. After seventeen - about to be eighteen - years, I was thrown into public school - for the first time _ever_, which was a decision by our Order - and in the field to kill vampires. I wasn't ready, by any means, but my father seemed convinced I was so he convinced the Order I was. I've never even seen a vampire.

The Order was the organization we belonged to. They were dedicated to destroy every single vampire, and they were very religious. I was submerged into all of this from the moment I was born. Always, I'd been told my dad and uncle are the best hunters that they've ever had, thus giving me big shoes to fill. It frightened me to think about it, and my future. I wasn't going to ever be able to go to college, which is something I'd always longed for. But it wasn't meant to be, I guess.

"Josephine!" My father called, pulling me from thought, from downstairs just as I picked up my bag.

"Coming!" I called before running out of my room. First day of high school. First day of public school.

*_ ° • ° _* ° • ° *_ ° • ° _*

I walked down the hall, my head hanging. This was what high school was like? People crowding around in cliques and not socializing with anyone else? I've discovered that this - public school - is overrated. Why was I told I was missing out on thus experience? I feel as if I've missed nothing, but I guess I can't really judge, my first class hasn't even started yet.

My father's words rang out to me, "_Be friendly, but do _not _make friends. Do not trust a soul._" He had told me this right before I headed the school. Which was fine by me not making friends because I was not a social person or could never start a good conversation with a stranger.

I had found my locker pretty easily, but getting it open was the most difficult thing I've ever done. I'm a trained hunter, and I didn't even have the strength to open a locker!

I sighed, giving up and hitting my head against it. "Stupid locker,"

"Do you need some help?"

I looked over to see a guy that had to be younger then me. I studied his features very careful. The guy had brown hair and eyes, boyish features which were definitely one day going to develop more, and making him handsome. He was slightly above average height, probably about 5'11". He would be considered a cute guy to other girls, I, however, did not have the time nor the life to have a boyfriend. Not only that, but it was just something I had never wanted. The male population just didn't seem too smart, and I had always loved intelligence.

I cursed myself mentally. It was what I did in these situations. I always sized people up, it was the hunter in me. And the girl, of course.

Clearing my throat, I spoke up. "Um, it won't open,"

"I see that," He smiled at me, obviously mentally laughing at me. "Which is why I asked, do you need some help?"

"Uh—" I looked to my locker and debated it for a moment. I didn't know him, why should I trust him? I stopped thinking right then. I was thinking like my dad. All he did was offer to open my locker! I was over-thinking this! _Better than to under-think it,_ I reminded myself. Finally knowing my answer, I looked over to him with a small, wary smile. "You wouldn't mind, would you?"

"Of course not," I punched in the combination again before taking a step back. He walked closer and grabbed ahold of the handle. Instantly, he opened it.

I exhaled, closing my eyes for a moment. "Thank you so much. You have no idea how much I appreciate that,"

"No problem," He gave me a smile, then looked me over for a moment. "I don't recognize you . . . "

"Oh, I'm new," I said. "I, uh, I just moved into town."

"Why would you want to move here?"

My smile faltered. "Uh—"

He shook his head and laughed ay my sudden nervousness. He held out his hand with a smile. "I'm just kidding. I'm Jeremy Gilbert,"

I shook his hand reluctantly. "Josephine Cacciatore."

"Cool last name,"

"Thanks. It's Italian," I gave him a half smile before turning towards my locker. I put everything in there which was needed before I glanced over to see the guy putting his things in a locker about three down from mine. I shook my head and finished with my task. Now it was time to find American History.

I looked at my map and tried figuring out which way. This map was too confusing. How could I figure out a map of the Appalachian mountain trail but not a high school map?

"You need some more help?" The guy, Jeremy, asked as he walked over to me once again.

"Uh, I think I'm good, but thank you," I smiled at him.

"What class are you going to?"

"Um . . . American History with . . . Mr. Saltzman," I read off the paper and noticed him tense up. "You okay?"

"Uh, yeah," He said, even though he now looked uncomfortable. "Mr. Saltzman's no longer here, Miss Harper is . . . Anyways, I'm going past there, I can show you."

I exhaled, looking at the map. There was no way I could figure this out myself, so I gave up. "Alright, fine. Show me the way."

"Come on, this way, Josephine," He nodded and started going left.

We walked in some silence, until he tried coaxing me ot of my shell.

"So, where did you move from?" He asked.

"Uh, New Orleans, actually," I said, keeping my eyes on the ground to make sure I didn't make any unnecessary eye contact with anyone.

"Is it nice there?"

" . . . It's interesting,"

He laughed, and I looked over at him. Why was he laughing? Did I have something on my face?

"What do you laugh at?" I questioned, my tone puzzled.

He looked over at me with a smile. "Just the way you said it, it struck me funny."

"You're not going to be one of those guys who laughs at everything I say, right?" I cast my eyes back down. "I've seen those in movies and—"

"I know, they're annoying. I swear to you I won't,"

I nodded and we fell under silence. He tried starting up other conversations, but they fell flat when I didn't help it along. He was still friendly, though, despite my coldness.

"Here we are," He said as he stopped in front of a class door. "If you need anything, just find me later, okay?"

"I will," I lied. I wouldn't need him for anything. "Thanks for showing me my class."

He was about to say something, but the bell interrupted him. He sighed. "Gotta get going, see you later?"

"Maybe," I told him before taking a deep breath and going into the classroom. This was going to be an interesting, scary experience.

*_ ° • ° _* ° • ° *_ ° • ° _*

The first classes went by smoothly. I observed my peers very carefully, but no one stood out. This was going to be a lot more difficult than I initially thought. No wonder it usually took my father months on cases where he himself had to figure out the vampire or vampires.

At lunch time, almost exactly the same time I exited my class, Jeremy came up to me.

"Hey, how are classes going?" He asked.

"Uh, good, I guess. Boring," I ran my hands over my ponytail to check that it was smooth. Everything that they had spoke about was something I'd learned in my seventh year.

"So, I was wondering since you don't know many people here yet, if you want to, you can come sit with me at lunch," He said.

"Uh, I don't know—"

"Come on, it'll be fine," He said. This _could _be a useful opportunity to find some information. Plus, it beats during out on the lawn, working on homework that I would have tonight.

I sighed reluctantly. "Fine,"

"Awesome. Follow me," He motioned me forward. "So do you go by Josephine?"

I told him as I caught up to his side. "My family calls me Josephine."

"Oh, can I call you Joey?"

"Sure," The only person ever to call me that was my mother.

"Is it a family name?"

"No, I was named after the character in _Little Women,_" I admitted.

"Really? You seem shy. Shouldn't you be . . . May, I think her name is?" He looked confused.

I laughed softly. "No, it's not her you're thinking of,"

"Oh, shows you how much I know about those novels," He shrugged. "I only saw the movie, and it was because my mom made me." He got a slightly distant look in his eyes.

"It might worry me more if you _did_ know that novel," I pointed out to him as I saw him return mentally. "It is more of a girly novel."

"Right," He laughed, shaking away whatever he was thinking of.

We got to the cafeteria and he opted for the school's meatloaf while I just drank an orange juice and a protein bar from home. We sat down at a table and he looked at my meal.

"Not huge on meatloaf?" He questioned.

"I'm on a strict diet," I admitted reluctantly.

"For what reason?"

"To keep up muscle strength,"

"Why?"

"My dad is huge into protecting yourself, so I automatically am, too. I'd rather take care of myself than let someone else do it," I said, looking down at my orange juice. "Enough about me, though. Gilbert, you said that was your last name, correct?"

"Yes,"

"So you're apart of a founding family," I pointed out.

"Yes," He nodded. "So you know about the history here?"

"Oh, of course. My father would never move anywhere without any background information on the town," I opened the protein bar.

"Your dad sounds . . . serious,"

"It's just the way he is," I tensed up slightly.

"I didn't mean to offend you. I'm sorry," He apologized.

Shaking my head, I kept my eyes down. "No, it's f-fine. You didn't s-say anything w-wrong." Ugh, stupid stutter! Whenever I got nervous, I'd stutter like crazy.

"Hey!"

I looked up in fright to see a whole group of purple sitting down around us. One was tan guy with dark features, another guy blonde and blue eyes, a blonde girl, a dark skinned girl, a brunette with doe eyes, and finally a guy with spiky hair. I instantly became uncomfortable with this huge group.

"Hey, Jer," They all greeted him before looking over at me. The brunette with doe eyes spoke.

"Who is this, Jeremy?" She asked.

"New girl," He answered. I could see him watching me, but I tried keeping my eyes from making contact with any of them.

"Oh, well, what's your name?" The blonde girl questioned me.

"She's Joey," Jeremy answered for me.

"I asked _her,_" The blonde said, annoyed, but smiled at me. "I'm Caroline Forbes. That's Matt Donovan," She pointed to the blonde guy. "That is my boyfriend Tyler Lockwood," She pointed to the tanned guy. "That is Bonnie Bennett," Next was the dark-skinned girl. "And that couple is Elena Gilbert and Stefan Salvatore. Elena's Jeremy's sister."

I hid my shock. Almost all these people were apart of a Founding Family. Did they flock together or something? I forced a smile. "Nice t-to meet you all,"

Tyler looked over at me, surveying my features. "So where did you move from, Joey?"

"Uh, New O-Orleans," I answered.

Stefan stepped into the conversation. "Really? I love it there,"

I looked over to him. "I o-only lived there f-for a couple of months before we m-moved here,"

"Army brat?" Matt questioned.

"No, my f-father's a writer,"

"What does he write?"

I looked over at Caroline and inhaled. "Books on p-places we live. Once he's got all te information he needs, we leave."

"Sounds boring as hell," Tyler said.

"Tyler!" Caroline chastised.

"Joey," Jeremy begun but I gave him a faint smile.

"It's fine," I waved him off and glanced at the time. "I've got to g-go make a phone call, actually. Excuse me." I stood and grabbed my two items.

"Who do you have to call?"

"My father," I admitted, nervously rubbing my knuckles. "He gets worried very easily, and if I don't call him he'll search every class until he finds me."

"That's creepy," Tyler looked over at Matt and Jeremy.

"I think it's sweet," Elena said, her first words in a while. She seemed cold when addressing me, though. "That he gets so worried about you, I mean."

I half-smiled at her despite her coldness. "It was nice to meet you all," I walked away and exited the cafeteria, a fear filling me as I considered the fact that they _might_ be talking about me.

I pushed the thought out of my mind as I walked out into the courtyard and dialed my father's number. As always, he picked it up on the first ring.

"_Hello, Josephine,_"

"Hello, sir," I responded, leaning against a tree. "What are you doing?"

"_Research, and writing to your uncle,_"

My father always loved writing letters, something he got me into as well. "Please tell him I said hello, and to respond to my letter as quickly as possible,"

"_Of course,_"

"Thank you, sir," I said, and then there was a long pause where he was no doubt writing to my uncle.

"_How has your day been?_"

"Uneventful," I sighed. "I can tell you more of it later. I find myself kind of missing New Orleans a little."

"_You become too attached to things, Josephine. You must learn to let go of things,_"

"Yes, sir," I swallowed. He always had told me this. I didn't like letting things go, though.

Another long pause. "_I will pick you up in the spot where I dropped you off,_"

The line went dead and I exhaled, closing my eyes. My father had never once said 'I love you,' not even to my uncle nor I. It was how he was, detached from any emotional feeling. I was more like my mom in that aspect; she _loved_ feeling emotions, which always made me believe that's what drew my father to her. Opposites attract, right?

My father had always tried to do the same to me, to get me to be like him. He didn't want me to get attached to anything, which is why I think he brought me on the road with him; to ensure that I'd never be like my mother. But my uncle's even commented on my spirit being my mother's, which made my father more determined to turn me into—

"Hey,"

I opened my eyes to see Jeremy standing there. I took a step away from the tree. "Oh, hi,"

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"Yes, I'm f-fine, but thank you for asking," I smoothed my hair and gave a convincing smile. "I'm just dreading Calculus next period."

Jeremy then offered to show me where that was as well, so I allowed him to.

*_ ° • ° _* ° • ° *_ ° • ° _*

At the end of the day, I made sure to flee from Jeremy. I did not want him meeting my father for multiple reasons. One being how my father was, and the second being that Jeremy seemed like a nice guy and I didn't want him to be scared off. He still could know something useful.

Like my father had promised, he was waiting in his black SUV right in the same spot as this morning. I got in and closed the door.

"Hvordan var din første dag?" He asked, his Danish accent clear in this sentence. Meaning, "_How was your first day?_"

"Godt, sir." I buckled my seat and looked straight ahead. I had said, "_Good, sir._"

"Good," was his only response, but in Danish, of course, as he started the car and pulled off.

As we left, I saw Jeremy walk out of the school, looking around for something, or someone.

**_* ° · ° * ° · ° * ° · ° *_**

_**The End of Chapter I**_

_**Please review, let me know what you think!**_

_**~ The Onceler's Unless**_


	2. Chapter 2

**_A/N: Thanks to the reviewers: DamonSalvatorelover, I'mOverTheMoon, himedesu, and royalrabbit._**

**_Bound in Blood: Order of the Hunters - Chapter II_**

*_ ° • ° _* ° • ° *_ ° • ° _*

_Dear Uncle Makon,_

_Let me begin with apologizing for the delay of this letter. I've not been busy, since I've not found a shred of evidence that vampires live here, but it's from a lack of something to write. Nothing's happened. School's boring since I know everything. I'm allowed to make friends, so I've avoided that. There's nothing I can say about Mystic Falls, other than I don't like it. I don't know the reason for my dislike. Maybe it is that it pulled me away from New Orleans? I just want to return there so badly, Uncle. I miss it. Write me back soon._

_As always,_  
_Josephine_

I sat at my desk, staring out the window at the long driveway which lead to my house. My father had made sure to buy a house a while away from civilization that was actually big enough for ten people. He used the extra rooms as training rooms, except for one room which was used as his office. I wasn't allowed to go in there.

I sealed the envelope and headed out of my room to go put it in the mailbox.

My first week in Mystic Falls had gone by almost too slowly. Jeremy seemed to feel obligated to befriend me and help me ease into this life. I did appreciate him, though, and made it known constantly to him. Though, it was kind of difficult when his sister, Elena, obviously did not like me. She did everything in her power to make sure I wasn't alone with Jeremy and she tried to discover every aspect of my life since I could remember. Of course, I gave no information. It wasn't hers to inquire about.

I got downstairs and saw my father rummaging through some mail at the door.

He glanced up at me. "Josephine, you are not ready yet?"

"Ready for what?" I asked, stopping as I got in front of him.

"The mayor is holding a welcome party for us, we are supposed to be there in two hours. Usually you are prepped three hours prior," He pointed out, looking down at my jogging pants, tennis shoes, and tee shirt. My brown hair was pulled back into a sweaty ponytail and my bangs held back by bobby pins.

I bit my bottom lip sheepishly. "I was training and lost track of time. I'm going to go drop this at the mailbox and then I'm going to get ready," I held up the letter before opening the door.

"No, allow me," He begun to move towards me. This man didn't even like me going down to the mailbox alone, how was I ever going to be able to discover these vampires?

"No, it's okay, really," I said. "I'm just going to run down there and run right back. Two minutes, tops."

He looked reluctant, but agreed, so I set off running, just as I promised. When I returned, two minutes later just as I promised, he looked like he was fixing to come after me. I assured him I was fine before hurrying to go get ready.

I took a shower then dried myself and my hair off. I brushed through it very carefully before straightening it. I didn't apply any makeup, because I didn't need it and my father never bought me any. I wore a white dress that showed _nothing_. All of my wardrobe was like this; no body part was to be showed except for part of my legs and arms. The dress went down to my knees and the sleeves covered my shoulders before cutting off. It dipped a little at the neck, but showed no cleavage. A baby blue ribbon was tied just under my breasts, and my shoes were white and baby blue to match. The dress was made of silk and satin, and was very soft to the touch.

I looked at myself in the mirror, studying my features. I had my mother's hazel eyes and her nose and soft facial structure, but my eye shape and dimples came from my father. My tan skin came from my father as well.

"Josephine?" My father's voice came from the other side of the door.

I hurried over to the door and opened it. "I'm ready," I said and gestured to my outfit. "It's good, right?"

"Yes," He looked my outfit over. "It's good enough. Come, we'll be late."

*_ ° • ° _* ° • ° *_ ° • ° _*

I nervously walked up beside my father to a tan woman with a huge smile on her face.

"Mr. Cacciatore," She instantly said. "We're so glad you could come tonight."

"It is a pleasure," My father said.

She looked to me. "And you must be Josephine."

"Y-yes," I nodded reluctantly and forced a smile.

"Excuse my daughter, she never likes to speak a lot," My father intervened.

"My son, Tyler, mentioned you were very quiet," She laughed, and I realized this was Mayor Lockwood.

My father looked over at me with curiousity. I had told him I hadn't met anyone of interest, and he apparently thought Tyler Lockwood was of interest.

"Well," Mayor Lockwood broke me from my thoughts. "We have refreshments over there and my son is around here somewhere." She looked around the room.

"I think I'll grab a water," I said, making my father look slightly alarmed. He wanted me to stay by his side all night, and I would, but I needed a drink right now.

"Of course," Mayor Lockwood nodded frantically and I excused myself. I went over to the bar and asked for a water.

"What are you from, the 1800s?"

I looked over at the voice coming from my right to see a dark haired guy with stunning blue eyes staring at my dress and a glass in his hand.

"N-no," I shook my head after a moment, realizing he was speaking to me. "It . . . It w-would have to be floor length to be c-considered reasonable b-back then."

"Hmph," He looked away and drank some more of his drink. I stood there awkwardly and looked back at my father to see him watching me from the corner of my eye. On accident, I sighed aloud, then quickly covered my mouth and turned toward the bar. Where were my manners?

"What are you sighing about?" The man asked.

I, in response, shook my head and then was handed the glass of water.

"Thank you, sir," I said to the bartender and got a low, "Your welcome, miss," from him before he moved onto the next person.

"Joey!"

I turned to the voice to see Tyler Lockwood had come to my side.

"Oh . . . H-hi, Tyler," I said, putting a lock of my hair behind my ear.

"My mom mentioned you were over here and I just thought I'd come tell we are upstairs. Wanna come?" He asked.

"Uh," I bit my lip. "I don't know, my father—"

"Josephine,"

Tyler and I looked to see my father standing there with Mayor Lockwood.

"You must be Tyler," My father said.

"Yeah, I am. You are . . . ?"

"Josephine's father, Mads Cacciatore," He introduced himself.

Right then, the guy who had been sitting beside me at the bar came over.

"You're Mads Cacciatore," He asked and my father nodded. "Damon Salvatore, head of the council." This Damon Salvatore held out his hand and my father reluctantly shook his hand. I realized Damon Salvatore was Stefan Salvatore's relative. Maybe a brother?

"Pleasure," my father said.

"Pleasure's all mine,"

"Doubtful,"

They stared at each other a moment before my father looked at me.

"Whatever were Tyler and you discussing?" He asked.

"Oh, well, I . . . " I rubbed my palms together.

"All us teens are upstairs, just hanging out. No worries, there isn't any alcohol. I was wondering if Joey wanted to join us up there instead of down here?" Tyler looked over at me.

"I see nothing wrong with it," My father said, surprising me completely. He then, glancing at me, added, "Unless Josephine prefers to stay down here."

"No, I-I . . . I'll go upstairs, if that's fine, of course," I looked at Tyler.

"Of course," Tyler said.

"Well, then," Mayor Lockwood said. "Mr. Cacciatore, about those pictures I was telling you, would you like to see them?"

"Yes," Father nodded and looked back to me. "Call me if you need me, Josephine."

"Of course," I nodded frantically to assure him and sat my drink down. Tyler gestured for me to follow so I did. We headed up the stairs.

"So, the gang's all here, plus a few extra. I know Jeremy will be glad to see you. He got dressed up and looking nice because he was going to see you," Tyler chuckled. "It's hilarious, actually."

"What is?"

"Seriously?" He paused at the top of the stairs. "You don't suspect a thing?"

I looked at him with confusion. "What should I suspect?"

He laughed and continued on. We came to a closed door, and he opened it to reveal a room about a quarter full. Instantly, I saw Jeremy stand from his spot on the couch beside Matt and Elena.

"Joey!" He said, and I noticed he was in a very fancy _suit _and had his hair styled sideways.

I waved to him. "Hey, Jeremy,"

He got over to me. "Wow, you look beautiful,"

This compliment took me by surprise. Since my only company ever had consisted of three people and one of them was a woman, I had only ever been called beautiful when my mother was around. After she left when I was nine, the minor compliments I got was when I passed a test. Other than that, the term was very forgein to me.

"Thank you. You look handsome," I complimented him back.

"Thanks. Wanna take a seat?"

"Uh, s-sure,"

Of course, the only seat left was a loveseat since Tyler stole Jeremy's old spot, so Jeremy and I sat side-by-side on the couch.

"Those are some muscles for a girl," Tyler commented. I looked down at my arms. They weren't _that _muscular. Yes, you could tell I worked out, but it wasn't no where near to a body builder's body. "What do you lift? 25 lbs.?"

"My highest is 120 lbs.," I said as a matter of factly.

"No way," Tyler shook his head. "No way I believe that."

"I kid you not," I said. "If I was in better attire right now, I'd show you."

"Are you serious?" Jeremy looked at me.

"Completely," I said.

We talked a little more about weight lifting until our conversations seperated, and Jeremy begun asking personal questions about me.

"So is your mom here tonight?" He asked.

"Er-" I shifted uncomfortably in the chair and looked down. "-my mother didn't move here with us."

"Why not?"

"Well, I-I've not s-seen her in eight y-years, so . . . " I stared at my knuckles for a long moment before looking up at him.

"I'm sorry," he apologized.

"Don't, it's not your fault," I shook my head.

"So, Joey," I looked to the voice to see Caroline addressing me. "Since you appear to be athletic, why don't you join the cheer squad? We certainly could use you."

"Uh, w-well . . . I've never really been into cheering," I admitted sheepishly. "I've always liked soccer."

She looked at me like I was a Cyclops. "_Soccer?"_

"Y-yeah . . . " I looked down and bit my lip. I couldn't even converse with people right.

"Of every sport, _soccer_?" Caroline questioned with a disgusted face. I looked down, what was I supposed to say that?

"I love soccer," Jeremy said, and I caught him shooting a dirty look to Caroline. "One of favorites, definitely."

But that didn't comfort me, and I felt out of place with these purple. So, looking for a quick escape, I looked to Tyler. "May I use your restroom?"

"Yeah, it's down the hall, last door on the right," He answered, giving Caroline a look similar to Jeremy's.

"Thank you," I murmured before quickly standing and leaving the room. I went down the hall and got to the restroom. I went in and splashed my face with cold water and headed back to the room.

I overhead their voices as I got closer.

" . . . You were the one who invited her up here to hang around with us!" I heard Caroline say.

"Because she's not harmful, Care! Plus, Jeremy has a crush on her," Tyler responded.

"Jeremy, you said yourself that no one knows a thing about her!" Elena's voice pierced the air. Did they ever speak in low voices? "And you have a _crush_ on her?!"

"What's so wrong with it?" Jeremy questioned her.

"We know _nothing _about her! We're trying to _protect _you, and you're not listening to us," Caroline interjected. "You shouldn't even speak to her."

I took a few steps back and then walked with noise to show them I was returning. I opened the door and Jeremy stood up.

"Hey, I-I'm . . . I'm n-not feeling well s-so . . . " I kept my eyes down. "I'm just going to g-go downstairs with my f-father. Thanks for asking m-me to come up here, b-but I probably should have s-stayed down there. S-see all of you around." I turned and softly closed the door before Jeremy could argue.

Jeremy? A crush? On _me_? And none of his friends liked me? This was too much at once, so I headed downstairs to find my father, and stick by his side for the remaining time. I'm sure they were kidding about him having a crush on me. I just have to ignore what they said as if it never was said.

*_ ° • ° _* ° • ° *_ ° • ° _*

I did stick by my father's side, and talked to countless people. Well, my father spoke. I was quite quiet. My mind was still stuck on what they had said about me. I had never interacted with anyone else until now, and they didn't even like me. How was I supposed to get along? Jeremy was the only one I'd really connected with. I wasn't good enough good anyone, evidently.

While my father and I stood at a member of the Fell member, Jeremy walked up.

"Joey, can we talk?" He asked me immediately.

"Not now, Jeremy," I whispered to him, looking at my father to see him noticing Jeremy.

"Please, Joey,"

"Who is this young man?" My father turned to him.

"Jeremy Gilbert, a friend of Joey's," Jeremy said before I could.

My father seemed surprised. "Josephine never mentioned a friend,"

"It never came up," I quickly said, looking in between the two.

Jeremy looked at me. "Can we please speak? In private?"

I looked to my father and he studied Jeremy for a long moment before nodding slowly. I could see another message in his eyes, it was, "Don't go too far. Stay in sight."

I walked up the stairs and stopped at the top. It was far away so no one could hear, but my father could see me.

"Yes?" I asked.

"You heard them, didn't you? You heard them coming back from the bathroom?" He asked.

I looked down the stairs, my eyes drifting to see Elena, Stefan, and Damon all watching us. I looked away and tensed up. "No, I didn't hear a word," I could feel their scrutiny, and felt my hands shaking.

"Joey, I know you did. I'm sorry about that. They're all as—"

"Please don't apologize, Jeremy," I interrupted, and forced a small smile. "And don't call your sister that. They mean well, and my opinion of them isn't wavered . . . " I looked down then back up. "I think their right, though. Maybe you shouldn't be around me. Besides, I'm not exactly allowed to have friends, so . . . "

"You're kidding me, right?"

I shook my head. "We barely know each other, Jeremy. I don't want to go against what my father says, anyways."

"Joey—!"

"Jeremy, could you please stop?" I questioned, hugging myself. "I'm sorry, just—please, let it be."

"This isn't fair," He said before going off down the stairs. I rubbed my face before noticing a balcony. Needing some fresh air, I headed over there. I walked to the edge and closed my eyes as the cool breeze hit me.

"You know-" Stefan said, making his presence known from standing in the doorway. He stood with his arms crossed and leaned against the doorframe. "-that was the most I've ever heard you speak. When fitness is involved in the conversation."

I bit my lip, and looked down sheepishly. "It's s-something I've always t-taken s-seriously,"

"Right," He walked up beside me and we stared in silence at the view. "Listen, I should apologize—"

"'Tratta gli altri come vuoi essere trattato,'" I quoted, then looked over at him with a ghost of a smile. "My mother used to say that. It means—"

"'Treat others as you want to be treated,'" He said knowingly.

"You know Italian?"

"Yes. And you?"

"Correntemente," I smiled widely now. "Così come il francese e danese." I had told him I spoke Italian fluently, and I also spoke French and Danish.

"È incredibile," He shook his head with a smile. He had just said it was incredible.

"A proposito, una molto. . . Affascinante fratello che hai," I had mentioned his brother being "charming."

He chucked and responded with, "Sì, beh, lui è quando lui vuole essere," Meaning: Yes, well, he is when he wants to be.

I laughed. "I can actually believe that,"

"I've not spoke with someone who knows the language in so long," He admitted with a laugh. "I'm a little rusty on it all."

I shrugged. "It was most fun language to learn. Then again, I learned the languages I know all the same way . . . " I trailed off, everything seemed to grow distant as I recalled the moments in my childhood. They were such carefree days that I dearly missed. "Anyways-" I cleared my throat. "-my mother also used to say, 'Perdona e dimentica.'" Which meant: _forgive and forget._ I smiled small at him before walking away.

"Maybe it's the European in me, but I do love soccer," He called.

As I stepped into the house, I looked back at him. "Alla prossima, Stefan Salvatore." I had said: 'Until next time, Stefan Salvatore.'

When I got back down to the party, my father was obviously ready to leave, so we did. We rode in silence and he didn't speak until I was going up the huge staircase.

"No friends, remember?" His voice rang out, hitting me like a knife. It stopped me on the stairs.

"Of course," I managed finally before rushing upstairs.

**_* ° • ° * ° • ° * ° • ° *_**

**_The End of Chapter II_**

**_Please review! And, if you feel like it, check out my other story, Poison & Wine, a Klaus/OC/Elijah story!_**

**_~ The Onceler's Unless_**


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: Special thanks to the reviewers: royalrabbit, Hard To Scare, and MusicalLover17.**_

**I apologize if this chapter is a bit boring. So let's get to it.**

**_Bound In Bound: Order of the Hunters - Chapter III_**

~ # ° • ¢ • ° # ~

"Fancy running into you here,"

I looked up from my spot to see the one and only Damon Salvatore. I was seated outside the school, doing my homework during study hall. "W-well, I am a student here. You're . . . w-what? Twenty-four, twenty-five?"

"Twenty-four," He took a seat across from me. "And you?"

"Seventeen,"

"Oh, not too young," He winked.

That frightened me. What was _that _supposed to mean?

"So," He pushed my papers aside. "Lets talk about you."

"There's n-nothing to talk about," I straightened my papers out and had them ready to go just in case I needed to run from this conversation. He was making me very uneasy. "There's nothing interesting about me, Damon. Even if there w-was . . . I wouldn't tell a complete s-stranger."

"Oh, come on, Joey! I'm completely harmless. It's not like I'm going to infiltrate your life, kill your father and then you. I'm not like that," He leaned forward, inches away from me. "I, however, know a threat when I see one, and am not afraid to eliminate them when I see them."

I stared at him with fake fright. I would of course play dumb, I'm not afraid. But it did confuse me. Was Damon a fellow hunter? Surely he isn't a vampire, so what was he?

"Damon," Stefan's voice pulled us from each other's stare. "You need to go. Now."

Damon stood. "And whose going to make me? I'm having a nice conversation with Joey here,"

"I'll make you go. Leave now and never come near her or her father again," Stefan said in a low, threatening tone.

"Do you really think you can make me, little brother?" Damon walked closer to Stefan until he was face-to-face with him.

"Yes, I do," Stefan didn't back down, and they stared at one another for a long time before Damon gave up.

"You trust too easily," Damon growled before storming off.

I stood up and packed my things. I picked up my bag and went over to Stefan, though both of us watched as Damon got in his car and sped off. I exhaled. "Is h-he always that psychotic?"

"Unfortunately,"

"Thank you, Stefan. He w-was making me . . . uneasy," I shivered with unwanted chills. "He definitely freaked me out."

"Well, I apologize for him. He shouldn't have spoken to you. If I'm guessing, he's doing it for Jeremy's sake," Stefan turned toward me.

"Why?"

"Because Jeremy's upset over what happened with you. I guess that is to prove to him that you're not worth it, or that you're 'dangerous,'" Stefan shook his head. "Do you wanna walk around? I don't want to be near the school right now."

"Sure," I said without thinking twice. Stefan and I started walking through the parking lot. I looked over at him. "I don't know if I exactly b-believe that Damon w-was doing that for Jeremy."

Stefan sighed, shaking his head again. "No, he was doing it for Elena,"

"Elena? Jeremy's older sister and your girlfriend?" I questioned.

"Yes, she doesn't trust you. Don't worry, I do trust you," He reassured.

"Is that why you don't want to be near the school? Something to do with Elena?" I looked at the cement as we walked farther and farther away from the school.

"Yes," He finally admitted after a long moment of silence. "We argued about you, whether we should let Jeremy near you or not."

"Were you for or against?"

"For, all the way . . . Jeremy really needed someone new in his life, and you were perfectly timed. You have to understand where Elena's coming from, Jeremy's her only living relative left. She just wants to protect him,"

"I understand," I nodded, looking over at him. "I feel that same way about my father and my uncle."

"Then will you please just be friends with Jeremy? He obviously still misses you," We had stopped walking now. "And he's angry at all of us for driving you away. He won't speak to Elena, and she really needs him."

I sighed. "Stefan . . . This is my first time _ever _at a public school. I've always been homeschooled. And when the only people I _thought_ liked me didn't, it-it messed with me. I can't be friends with Jeremy, not knowing how his family and the rest of his friends hate me. I just . . . I just can't. I'm sorry,"

The bell rung in the distant, indicating the end of the day.

"Oh, no," I muttered, hurriedly running toward the school.

Stefan caught up, and ran a steady pace beside of me. "What? What's wrong?"

"My father!"

We got back to the school, my father was waiting in his normal spot. I stopped a safe distance away before turning to Stefan. "I'm sorry our conversation was interrupted, but thanks for talking with me."

"Of course, anytime," He said. "Maybe we could continue the conversation sometime? We can meet up before school."

"Uh, er—" I glanced at the car. It couldn't hurt, could it? "—what time and where?"

"Here, tomorrow morning, six-thirty?"

"Okay, sounds like a plan," I started to back away. "Actually, let's meet where we walked to."

"That's fine,"

"Thanks again for saving me from Damon."

"Anytime, Jo,"

I smiled at the nickname. "See you around, Stef,"

I turned around and was smiling from ear to ear as I climbed into the car. Unfortunately, my father had evidently paid attention to the exchange.

"Who was that?" He questioned.

"Oh, that's Stefan Salvatore, he's an acquaintance," I said, my smile dropping as I was very careful not to say friend.

My father didn't say another word as he pulled away. We rode in silence and once we got home he immediately went into his study. I went into the kitchen and finished my remaining homework before I went upstairs and changed into my training outfit, then I went to the training roon. I stretched and warmed up before running three miles on the treadmill. As always, my mind was clear from anything. All I was focused on was finishing my workout.

I went to the punching bags and worked up a major sweat as I punched at the bags. My father had said to imagine they were people, but I imagined them just as they were: stuffed bags. I wasn't a violent person and didn't even like 'fighting' against my father.

I lifted some weights before moving onto my two hundred pushups, sit-ups, and pull-ups. I did another mile on the treadmill before finishing my workout.

I decided to take a shower so I wouldn't stink at dinner. Afterward, I dried my hair and changed into a sundress, a jean jacket, and sandals before going back downstairs to the kitchen. I wanted to wear pajamas, because I was so exhausted. Between school, homework, and my training sessions (my father was only involved with the ones on Saturdays), I was physically drained. But, however, my father would chastise me if I came downstairs in pajamas. He was all about always looking respectable, even if no one was around to see you.

Once I started on making dinner, which was Gourmet Mushroom Risotto, an Italian dish, my thoughts came back to me and I thought instantly about Stefan.

He definitely looked like he was European, and I'd have to ask him next time I saw him if he was born in Italy. I hadn't lived in Europe long, only until I was six then we moved to America and I learned fluent English. I still had a slight accent, a mixture of Danish, French, and Italian. It came out in certain words.

Stefan definitely seemed a good guy, and I needed to get to know more about him. I wondered if all this was a fluke, him wanting to talk to me, I mean. He could be doing it for Elena, but I highly doubted that. He seemed to good-natured for that.

My father must have heard me cooking, because before long he joined me and rolled up his sleeves. We prepared the food in silence and once it was finished, we sat down in the dining room. We remained quiet for quite a while, until my father spoke up.

"Salvatore. That's an Italian name," He said, cutting at his Risotto. "Is he Italian?"

"Yes, he is,"

"From which side of his family?"

"I'm not sure,"

Pause. "You will have to invite him over to dinner one night."

"I can mention it to him,"

"You need to _ask _him, not mention it, min engel. Mayor Lockwood and Sheriff Forbes are dining with us Friday. Perhaps he could come then?"

"Yes, I will ask him,"

"Or that Gilbert boy. Jeremy, I believe?"

"Yes, that's his name. I don't really speak to him anymore,"

"You have been here a week, how do you already have someone that dislikes you?"

I tensed, taking a small bite of my food, and my hands shook. I had barely touched it this entire time. I never seemed to have an appetite around others. "I d-d-don't interact w-w-well w-with others,"

"Tag det roligt, min engel, jeg mente noget ondt med det. " Meaning: Calm down, my angel, I meant no harm by it. 'Min engel' was the only loving thing he ever said to me. It meant 'my angel' in Danish.

He wanted me to break a little bit to show a weakness to me it was evident by that last statement. The next thing came by surprise, an envelope he held out to me.

"Uncle Makon?" I questioned, my eyes going wide with excitement. My uncle and I were very close; I absolutely adored him.

He nodded as I took it from him. "Yes, but you cannot read it yet. Clean your plate off before you go read it, I can get the rest."

"Tak, sir," I said 'thank you' to him before tucking the envelope into my jean jacket pocket and grabbing the dish I had used along with the silverware and cup I drank from. After cleaning them all off, I begun to go upstairs before remembering I needed to ask my father about dropping me off early, so I went back into the dining room. "Father?"

"Yes, min engel?" He was gathering the dishes.

"Can you drop me off early tomorrow at school? At six-thirty?" I asked him.

He studied me for a long moment, and I felt my hands getting clammy. Why wasn't he questioning me on where I was going? Why hasn't he already threatened to keep me in the house for the rest of my life?

"I will,"

"Father, you must let me, this—" I stopped speaking. "Pardon me, did you just agree?"

"I did,"

"Why? If I may ask?"

"I trust you to not deceive me," He walked by me to the kitchen. "Now go read your letter and get your homework done."

"Tak, sir," I thanked him again before excusing myself(in Danish) and going up to my room. As soon as I got to my room, I prepared for bed. I changed into a pair of grey jogging pants and a plain white shirt. I went over to my desk and opened up the closed letter and begun reading the writing.

'_My dear Josephine,_

_New Orleans misses you as well. Ever since we took down Marcel, things have been quiet here. The witches are still grateful to your father and I, but they are holding something back, I believe. Let's not discuss that, it's just a paranoid old man's rant. I'm sad to hear you don't find Mystic Falls to your liking, perhaps, in time, you'll learn to love it, or at the very least come to like it. How is your father holding up? He's not pushing you too hard, is he?_

_Your forever correspondent,_  
_Makon S. Cacciatore_

I sat his letter down and pulled my stationary out.

_Dear Uncle Makon,_

_No, I don't believe my father is pushing me too hard. He has kept any information he knows secret, though. He won't communicate with me about any of this, and we're supposed to be working together. Perhaps you could speak to him? Anyways, about New Orleans and the witches, maybe we could convince my father to allow me to come assist you with finding what the witches are hiding. No, that wouldn't work, he will never let me leave, let alone the Order would never let me . . . I miss you, Uncle Makon. I hope to see you soon._

_Asalways,_  
_Your Josephine_

I sealed it up and decided I would mail it tomorrow morning before school. There was a knock at my door.

"Come in," I called.

My father entered, obviously troubled by something. "Josephine, why did you lie about being friends with that Gilbert boy?"

"Oh, w-we weren't friends. I d-didn't know him w-well enough,"

"But he was under the impression you were,"

"I . . . I don't know how to answer other than I-I know the rules. I w-would never b-betray the Order or you . . . You know that."

He stared at me a moment before nodding. "I believe you, _min engel._ Don't let the bed bugs bite,"

"Goodnight," I said to him as he walked out. I was very much confused. Why would he mention bed bugs? That didn't seem right and it left my skin crawling as I flipped my light switch off and got into my bed.

I stared up at my ceiling for the longest of times, fatigue was just not coming to me.

When it did, which was probably an hour after I laid down so about eight thirty, it was dreamless. It seemed like five minutes later I opened my eyes to my alarm clock buzzing.

I almost didn't feel up to going, until I realized I was meeting Stefan today. Then I jumped out of bed with excitement.

*_ ° • ° _* ° • ° *_ ° • ° _*

**_The End of Chapter III_**

**_Please review! Next chapter: Stefan/Joey! (If anyone could create a couple name for them, it would be awesome)_**

**_As always,_**

**_~ The Onceler's Unless_**


	4. Chapter 4

**_Bound in Blood: Order of the Hunters ~ Chapter IV_**

*_ ° • ° _* ° • ° *_ ° • ° _*

I waited patiently at the spot where Stefan and I agreed to meet.

After getting up this morning, I ran a mile, I then took a shower and ate breakfast before brushing my teeth and made sure I looked presentable. I was, after all, meeting Stefan. I decided on wearing a white sundress and white ballet shoes. My hair was in waves since I thought it looked better like that instead of being straightened. Nothing else, of course, was put on besides a jacket so I wouldn't freeze from the chill of October.

My father had spoke with me all morning about what to look for in a vampire, reminding me that I needed to find the vampire so that we could leave for the next case. So, I was going to innocently question Stefan about that today unless I got distracted, but I hoped I wasn't. I desperately need to get out of this town, even if that meant leaving Stefan and Jeremy. I wasn't that close to them, anyways.

"Ciao, Jo,"

I looked to see Stefan dressed in a dark blue sweater and dark jeans with leather boots. This is something I liked about him that I had picked up on from seeing him around: Stefan Salvatore is a casual, yet trendy dresser and he always looks neat, clean and well put together.

"Ciao, Stefan," I smiled at him. "Sei molto carina." I had greeted him back and then told him he looked very nice.

"Grazie, anche tu," He thanked me and said I looked nice as well.

"Grazie," I now had a grin on my face and brushed my hair back. We just stood there for a moment, just smiling at each other. "Anyways, w-where were at in our conversation?"

"Jeremy,"

"Right," I exhaled softly and started walking. He came up beside me. "I just don't know what to do, Stefan. I did like my friendship with Jeremy, but Elena — I don't mean to single her out — doesn't like me. I _know_ she doesn't by the looks she's given me."

"Which I talked to her yesterday, she's willing to give you a chance. She wants Jeremy to be happy and can see that he was happier when you two were both friends,"

I bit my lip and looked over at him as we walked. "Stefan . . . I heard Tyler say that Jeremy had a crush on me . . . Is that true?"

He waited a long moment before looking over at me to respond. "Yes, he does like you," I looked down and swallowed the lump in my throat. No, no one was supposed to like me. No one was supposed to like me in _that_ way. "Are you okay? You're shaking,"

I hugged myself. "I don't think I'm comfortable with that. I don't view him like that,"

"Then don't make advances towards him, just be his friend," He said, placing a hand on my shoulder to stop me from walking so I turned to him. "Hey, Elena might not like you, but Jeremy, Tyler, Matt and I all like you. You're cool to have around, so please just think about it and strongly consider it, okay?"

"Okay," I caved with a small smile. "But only because you asked so politely."

"Yes you'll consider it or . . . ?"

I shrugged and smiled over at him. "I don't want to talk about this anymore,"

"What _do _you want to talk about then?"

"Your Italian roots!"

"What about them?"

"Well, where were you born?" I walked backwards in front of him and smiled widely at him.

"Here,"

"Really?" I asked and he nodded.

"And you?"

I hesitated. Should I tell him about me . . . ? I mean, it _was_ a way I could gain his trust. I couldn't remain a complete mystery to everyone and expect answers. "Well . . . I was born in France, but only stayed there for a year before moving to Denmark. I stayed there for two years before going to Italy. I started there for three more years before we moved to America."

"That's where that mixed accent comes from. You can't always hear it, but it's more prominent at certain times," He said. "That must have been amazing, though, growing up in all those places."

I turned around and walked normally. "But it gets tiring. We move around a lot with my father's job, and never stay in one place for long. I wouldn't be surprised if we were gone from here by Christmas,"

"Why would your dad drag you around country with him? Doesn't your mom get tired of it, too?" Instantly his face went to 'oh crap.' "I'm sorry, I forgot about that. I remember you telling Jeremy that now. I'm sorry."

"Oh, it's fine," I played with the button on my jacket. "After all these years, I got over it." However, we walked in an awkward silence for a minute or two.

"If I may, why did she leave?"

"Well, my father said that it was because she couldn't handle moving so frequently. She left me a letter, but I never have opened it. It's pointless because I know it will consist of her telling me she loved me, but she couldn't take me with her for a reason she couldn't tell me. I don't need her excuses," I had said it in a huge rush of words and now looked down sheepishly. "S-sorry, I d-didn't mean t-to say so much."

"No, it's fine, I see where you're coming from on that. I'm sure she had a good reason to go, though," He attempted to reassure me.

"Yeah, she probably did," I said, though I wasn't convinced. She left for a unbeknownst reason and she probably didn't take me because she knew the Order would track her down and kill her. The Order, my father, or my uncle, whoever out of those three found her first.

"So you're fluent in French, Danish, Italian, and English?"

"And I know a little Latin. I'm studying Latin right now and then Greek before I'm moving into Spanish," I admitted. "Do you only speak Italian?"

"I know French as well,"

"Oh, et vous?" Which meant: Oh, you do?

"Oui, parfaitement. Je sais que presque aussi bien que l'italien," He said he knew it fluently and knew it almost as well as Italian.

I laughed. "I've only ever spoken to my father and my uncle in these languages. It's lovely to meet someone who knows them just as well as I do."

"Like I said before, it's been quite a while since I've actually spoken in these languages, so it's a little rusty,"

"Oh, no, I assure you, it's perfect. It's as if you've spoken the languages for centuries!" I laughed again and he smiled as if he knew something I didn't, to which I brushed off.

"You're a fun girl, you know that, right?" He asked.

I shook my head. "No, I'm not. I'm a boring person. All I do is exercise, write letters, and study dead languages."

"You write letters?"

"Yes, I have ever since I could write. I write to my uncle,"

"Tell me about your uncle,"

"He lives in Louisiana, acts like an aristocrat, loves writing letters, and has a strange fascination with Elvis Pressley,"

"Elvis?"

"Don't ask me; I prefer Johnny Cash,"

"So you're into old country,"

"That's all I've ever listened to," I admitted sheepishly.

"Are you serious?" He had stopped walking, so I turned to face him.

"That's all I've ever been allowed to listen to. I have never heard a single from anytime after the sixties,"

"You're saying you have never heard any Bon Jovi?"

"_Bon Jovi? _Someone is named Bon Jovi?"

"We are going to have to educate you. The eighties were amazing," He walked up to me and glanced down at his watch. "School starts in fifteen, we should probably start head back. Do you want to come eat dinner with me at the Grill tonight?"

"I don't think I'll be able to,"

"Why?"

"My father. He's . . . He's strict,"

"Maybe if I talk to him — "

"No, don't do that,"

"Why?"

I sighed and my shoulders tensed up. I folded my arms and looked away from him. "Like I said, my father's strict. He-he wouldn't let me. We always cook dinner together and if I ask him about leaving to eat somewhere else . . . He won't be too happy."

"Oh,"

We walked slowly back to the school, and a silence fell over us. What we were supposed to say now? It was completely awkward.

"It's nothing personal, Stefan," I said after realizing the way he might have taken it.

"I know it's not," He gave me a smile. "To be honest, I was going to invite Elena as well so you two could get to know one another."

I cast my eyes away. So he didn't want to continue to hang out with me, he wanted to get me good with Elena. My feelings weren't hurt; I was just surprised was all. He was still on the Elena thing? "So how long have Elena and you been dating?" I asked, not wanting to respond to his last confession.

"Beginning of junior year," He answered. "Not consecutively, we've taken some breaks from one another."

"You two are cute together," I smiled over at him. "You're the 'it' couple, aren't you? I mean, you both are good-looking and quite popular."

"Yeah, I guess we kinda are," He laughed at it. "Though I'd actually put Caroline and Tyler before us."

I nodded. "They seem almost made for one another. From what I've seen, at least,"

"You watch them?"

"No!" I quickly denied it and stared at him with wide eyes. "No, I did _not_ mean that!"

"I'm kidding, Jo," He smiled over at me.

I faked a laugh and switched my bag to my other arm. "So how did you two meet?"

"You're interested in this stuff?"

"Yes, I've never been in a relationship before so everything you can tell me about yours with Elena would be great. I will need pointers for when I begin dating in the distant future," I pointed out and smiled over at him.

"I moved here from Georgia and we instantly . . . clicked,"

"That's sweet," I commented. "A little cliché, but sweet."

"Cliché?"

"New guy moves to town, only has eyes for one girl . . . I think I've heard that story a lot, actually," I laughed and kicked a rock.

"She's a special girl," He expression was touching as he said that. He was obviously deeply in love with Elena, and I admired that about him. I don't know why I did, but I did. It was adorable the way he spoke about her, how his eyes got a twinkle in them as he did.

We spoke about our classes as we headed toward the school. I told him how well I was doing and how bored I was in Calculus since I knew everything. He suggested that I should help with tutoring, that I could get some credits for doing it.

We went to my locker and he was telling me about when he was a tutor. He had been tutoring a smoker and the person had torn out a page of his textbook and rolled a joint — he explained what a 'joint' was — up in it before smoking it. He didn't even say anything to Stefan about it, just kept on reading. I was still laughing when Elena walked over.

"Stefan? What's so funny?" She asked, her doe eyes watching me. She slipped her arm around Stefan and sized up what I was wearing.

"I was just telling Jo about the time when I was a tutor," He explained.

"What was so funny though?"

"H-he had to tutor a s-smoker," I explained in a soft voice.

"He, uh, the smoker, randomly rolled a joint during a session," Stefan finished for me.

"You're going to be tutoring?" She asked, moving her gaze back to me.

"I'm not s-sure if I am or not," I said as I closed my locker. "I'd have to ask my father first."

"Oh, good luck," Stefan looked knowingly at me.

"Thanks," I smiled small at him and then checked my watch. "Class starts in a few minutes . . . I better go on. It was nice seeing you both again. Arrivederci. " I waved to them before walking away - I'd said goodbye in Italian.

"Arrivederci!" Stefan called to me. I couldn't help but smile.

*_ ° • ° _* ° • ° *_ ° • ° _*

**_The End of Chapter IV_**

**_A/N: Sorry for the long wait, updates will be coming more and more frequently from now on! Also, thanks to shadowslayer23 for Stefan and Josephine's couple name: Jospefen!_**

**_Next chapter: Jeremy and Josephine!_**


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